Monday, October 24, 2011

Anthony Marr's upcoming 40-states-in-7-months Compassion for Animals Road Expedition #8 (CARE-8), also known as the OCCUPY THE WORLD 2012 Tour.

Other than the standard speeches and talks and discussions, vegan potlucks, networking, coalition building and campaign launching, Anthony Marr and tour organizer Shannon Wright will also endeavor to do one "OCCUPY THE WORLD" event in every city en route (50+), regardless of whether that city has already done an Occupy event in its own name or not.

The state-by-state itinerary will approximately be as follows, subject to changes:

Sunday, October 23, 2011

2011-10-22For a world with a future - for the animals and our kids - vote:

2011-10-22Imagine...

2011-10-22Thousand shalt not derive pleasure from another sentient being's suffering.

2011-10-22New Resolution for Earth: Rather than being handed down the Ten Commandments, we now make our own TEN COMMITMENTS. Rather than being told "Thou shalt", we now say "I WILL!" Therefore, instead of "Thou shalt not derive pleasure from another sentient being's suffering," we now declare, "I WILL NOT DERIVE PLEASURE FROM ANOTHER SENTIENT BEING'S SUFFERING." Amen (So be it).

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

This is an excerpt from the John Grisham novel THE CONFESSION, about the murder of a young woman, and an innocent man who was sent to death row resulting from a false confession forced by brutal and unprincipled police interrogation. It shows that it is constitutional for police to use blatant lies during the prolonged interrogation to force the confession. It horrified me when I first read it, as it should you.

And why do these detectives do it? It was a hot crime, and they wanted to show the public that they solved it. And since they couldn't catch the real killer, they just picked on an innocent person and forced him to confess. Case closed and they looked like heroes.

Anthony Marr

On Dec. 22, 1998, 18 days after the disappearance of Nicole Yarber, Detective Drew Kerber and Jim Morrissey of the Slone police department drove to the South Side Health Club, looking for Donte. The club is frequented by the more serious athletes in the area. Donte worked out there almost every afternoon, after school. He lifted weights and was rehabbing his ankle. He was in superb physical condition and was planning to enroll at San Houston State University next summer, then try out for the football team as a walk-on.

A approximately 5pm, as Donte was leaving the club alone, he was approached by Kerber and Morrissey,. who introduced themselves in a friendly manner, and asked \donte of he was talk to them about Nicole Yarber. Donte agree, and Kerber suggested they meet at the police station, where they could be relaxed and be more comfortable. Donte was nervous about this, but he also wanted to cooperate fully. He knew Nicole - he helped search for her - but knew nothing about her disappearance, and thought that the meeting at the station would take just a few minutes. He drive himself, in the family's well-used green Ford van, to the police station and parked in a visitor's slot. As he walked into the station, he had no idea that he was taking his last steps as a free man. He was 18 years go, had never been in serious trouble, and had never been subjected to a prolonged police interrogation.

He was checked in at the front desk. His cell phone, wallet and car keys were taken and put in a locked drawer for "security reasons".

The detectives led him to an interrogation room in the basement of the building. Other officers were around. One, a black policeman in uniform, recognized Donte and said something about football. Once inside the interrogation room, more Morrissey offered him something to drink. Donte declined. There was a small rectangular table in the center of the room. Donte sat on one side, both detectives on the other. The room was well lit with no windows. In one corner, a tripod held a video camera, but it was not directed at Donte, as far as he could tell, nor did it appear to be turned on.

Morrissey produced a sheet of paper and explained that Donte needed to understand his Miranda rights. Donte asked if he was a witness or a suspect. The detective explained their procedures required that all persons interrogated be informed of their rights. No big deal. Just a formality.

Donte began to feel uncomfortable. He read every word on the paper, and since he had nothing to hide, he signed his name, thus waiving his right to remain silent and his right to an attorney. It was a fateful, tragic, decision.

Innocent people are much likelier to waiver their rights during an interrogation. They know they are innocent, and they want to cooperate with the police to prove their innocence. Guilty suspects are more inclined not to cooperate. Seasoned criminals laugh at the police and clam up.

Morrissey took notes, beginning with the time the "suspect" entered the room - 5:25pm.

Kerber did most of the talking. The discussion began with a long summary of the football season, the wins, the losses, what went wrong in the playoffs, a coaching change that was the hot rumor. Kerber seemed truly interested in his future and hoe that his ankle healed so he could play in college. Donte expressed confidence that this would happen.

Kerber seemed especially interested in Donte's current weight-lifting program, and asked specific questions about how much he could bench press, curl, squat and dead-lift.

There were a lot of questions about him and his family, his academic progress, his work experience, his brief run-in with the law on that marijuana thing when he was 16, and after what seemed like a hour, they finally go around to Nicole. The tone changed. The smiles were gone. The questions became more pointed. How long had he known her? How many classes together? Mutual friends? Whom did he date? Who were his girlfriends? Whom did she date? Did he ever date Nicole? No. Did he ever try to date her? No. Did he want to date her? He wanted to date a lot of girls. White girls? Sure, he wanted to, but he didn't. Never dated a white girl? No. Rumor has it that you and Nicole were seeing each other, trying to keep it quiet. Nope. Never met her privately. Never touched her. But you admit you wanted to date her? I said I wanted to date a lot of girls, white and black, even a couple os Hispanic. So, you love all girls? A lot of them, yes, but not all.

Kerber asked if Donte had participated in any of the searches for Nicole. Yes, Donte and the entire senor class had spent hours looking for her.

They talked about Joey Gamble and some of the other boys Nicole had dated through high school. Kerber repeatedly asked if Donte dated her, or were seeing her on the sly. His questions were more like accusations, and Donte began to worry.

Roberta Drumm served dinner each night at 7 o'clock, and if for some reason Donte wasn't there, he was expected to call. At 7 o'clock pm, Donte asked the detectives if he could leave. Just a few more questions, Kerber said. Donte asked if he could call his mother. No, cell phones were not permitted inside the police station.

After 2 hours in the room, Kerber finally dropped a bomb. He informed Donte that that they had a witness willing to testify that Nicole had confided to her close friends that she was seeing Donte and there was a lot of sex involved. But she had to keep it quiet. Her parents would never approve. Her rich father in Dallas would cut off his support and disinherit her. Her church would be scornful. And so on.

There was no such witness, but police are permitted to lie at will during an interrogation.

Dante strongly denied any relationship with Nicole.

And, Kerber went on with his tale, this witness had told them that Nicole was becoming increasingly worried about the affair. She wanted to end it, but that he, Donte, refused to leave her alone. She thought she was being stalked. She thought Donte had become obsessed with her.

Donte vehemently denied all of this. He demanded to know the identity of this witness, but Kerber said it was all confidential. You witness is lying, Donte said over and over.

As with all interrogations, the detectives knew the direction their questions were headed. Donte did not. Abruptly Kerber changed subjects and grilled Donte about the gree Ford van, and how often he drove it, and where, and so on. It had been in the family for years, and it was shared by the Drumm children.

Kerber asked how often Donte drive it to school, to the gym, to the mall, and to several other places frequented by high school students. Did Donte drive it to the mall on the night of December 4th, a Friday, the night Nicole disappeared.

No. On the night Nicole disappeared, Donte was at home with his younger sister. His parents were in Dallas at a weekend church convention. Donte was babysitting. They ate frozen pizza and watched television in the den, something his mother did not usually allow. Yes, the green van weas parked in the driveway. His parents had taken the family's Buick to Dallas. Neighbors testified that the green van was wheren he said it was. No one saw it leave during thenight. His sister testified that he was with her throughout the night, that he did not leave.

Kerber informed the suspect that they had a witness who saw a green Ford van the mall parking lot around the time when Nicole disappeared. Donte said there was probably more than one such van in Slone. He began asking the detectives if he was a suspect. Do you think I took Nicole? He asked over and over. When it became evident that they did, he grew extremely agitated. He was also frightened at the thought of being suspected.

Around 9 o'clock pm, Roberta Drumm was concerned. Donte rarely missed dinner, and he usually kept his cell phone in his pocket. her calls to her was going straight to voice mail. She began calling his friends, none of whom knew his whereabouts.

Kerber asked Donte straight out if he had killed Nicole and disposed of her body. Donte angrily denied this, denied any involvement whatsoever. Kerber said he did not believe Donte. The exchanges between the two became tense, and the language deteriorated. Accusations, denials, accusations, denials. At 9:45 pm, Kerber kicked back his chair and stormed out of the room. Morrissey put down his pen and apologized for Kerber's behavior. He said the guy was under a lot of stress because he was the lead detective and everybody wanted to know what happened to Nicole. There was a chace she was still alive. Plus, Kerber was a hothead who could be overbearing.

It was the classic good cop, bad cop routine, and Donte knew exactly what was going on. But since Morrissey was being polite, Donte chatted with him. They did not discuss the case. Donte asked for a soft drink and something to eat, and Morrissey went to get it.

Donte had a good friend by the name of Torrey Pickett. They had played football together since the 7th grade, but Torrey had some legal problems the summer before his junior year. He was caught in a crack-selling sting and sent away. He did not finish high school, and was currently working at a grocery store in Slone. The police knew that Torrey clocked out each weeknight at 10, when the store closed. Two uniformed officers were waiting. They asked him if he would voluntarily come down to the station and answer some questions about the Nicole Yarber case. He hesitated, and this made the police suspicious. They told him that his buddy Donte was already down there and needed his help. Torrey decided to see for himself. He rode in the backseat of the police car.

At the station, Torrey was placed in a room two doors down from Donte. The room had a large window with one-way glass so that officers could look in, but the suspect could not see them. It was also wired so that the interrogation could be heard on a speaker in the hall. Detective Needham worked alone and asked the usual generic, non-invasive questions. Torrey quickly waived his Miranda rights. Needham soon got to the topic of girls, and who was dating whom and who was fooling around when they were not supposed to be. Torrey claimed he barely knew Nicole, hadn't seen her in years. He scoffed at the idea that his pal Donte was seeing the girl. After 30 minutes of questioning, Needham left the room. Torrey sat at a table and waited.

Meanwhile, in "the choir room", Donte was getting another jolt. Kerber informed him they has a witness who was willing to testify that Donte and Torrey Pickett grabbed the girl, raped her in the back of the green van, then tossed her body off a bridge over the Red River. Donte actually laughed at this lunacy, and his laughter rankled Detective Kerber. Donte explained that he was laughing not about a dead girl but at the fantasy that Kerber was putting together. If Kerber really had a witness, then he, Kerber, was foolish for believing the lying idiot. The two men called each other liars, among orther thing. A bad situation became even uglier.

Suddenly Needham opened the door and informed Kerber and Morrissey that they had Torrey Pickett "in custody". This news was so exciting that Kerber jumped to his feet and left the room again.

Moments later he was back. He resumed the same line of questioning and accused Donte of the murder. When Donte denied everything, Kerber accused him of lying. He claimed to know for a fact that Donte and Torrey Pickett raped and killed the girl, and if Donte wanted to prove his innocence, then they should start with a polygraph. A lie-detector test. It was foolproof, clear evidence, admissible in court, and so on. Donte was immediately suspicious of the test, but at the same time thought it might be a good idea, a quick way to end this foolishness. He knew that he was innocent. He knew that he could pass the test, and in doing so, he could get Kerber off his back before things got worse. He agreed to an exam.

Under the stress of police questioning, innocent people are far likelier to agree to a polygraph. They have nothing to hide and they're desperate to prove it. Guilty suspects rarely consent to the exams, and for obvious reasons.

Donte was led to another room and was introduced to a Detective Ferguson, who'd been at home asleep an hour earlier when Detective Needham called. Furguson was the department's polygraph expert, and he insisted that Kerber, Morrissey, and Needham leave the room. Furguson was extremely polite, soft-spoken, even apologetic for putting Donte through the process. He explained everything, ran through the paperwork, rigged up the machine, and began asking Donte about his involvement in the Nicole Yarber matter. The went on for about an hour.

When Furguson finished, he explained that it would be a few minutes before he could digest the results. Donte was taken back to "the choir room".

The results clearly showed that Donte was telling the truth. However, the law, as decided by the U.S. Supreme Court, permits the police to engage in a wide range of deceptive practices during interrogations. They can lie at will.

When Kerber returned to "the choir room", he was holding the graph paper from the test. He threw it at Donte, hitting himn in the face, and called him a "lying son-of-a-bitch"! Now they had proof that he was lying! They had clear evidence that he snatched his ex-lover, raped her, killed her in a fit of rage, and threw her off a bridge. Kerber picked up the graph paper, shook it in Donte's face, and promised him that when the jury saw the result of the test, they would find him guilty and give him death. You're looking at the needle, Kerber said over and over.

Another lie. Polygraphs are so famously unreliable that the results are never admitted in court.

Donte was stunned. He felt faint. He bewildered and struggled to find words. Kerber relaxed and took his seat across the table. He said that many cases involving horrible crimes, especially those committed by good, decent folks - non-criminals - the killer subconsciously erases the act from his memory. He just "blocks it out". This is quite common, and he, Detective Kerber, because of his extensive training and vast experience, had seen this many times. He suspected that Donte was quite find of Nicole, maybe even in love, and did not plan to harm her. Things got out of control. She was dead before he realized it. Then he was in shock at what he'd done, and the guilt was crushing. So he tried to block it out.

Donte continued to deny everything. He was exhausted and lay his head on the table. Kerber slapped the table violently, startling his suspect. He again accused Donte of the crime, said they had the witnesses and the proof, and that he would be death within five years. Texas prosecutors know how to streamline the system so that they executions are not delayed.

Kerber asked Donte to just imagine his mother, sitting in the witness room, waving at him for the last time, crying her eyes out, as they strap him down and adjusted the chemicals. You're a dead man, he said more than once. But there was an option. If Donte would come clean, tell them what happened, make a full confession, then he, Kerber, would guarantee that the state would not seek the death penalty. Donte would get life with no parole, which was no piece of cake, but at least he could write letters to his mom and see her twice a month.

Such threat of death and promises of leniency are unconstitutional, and the police know it. Both Kerber and Morrissey denied using these tactics. Not surprisingly, Morrissey's notes make no reference to threats or promises. Nor do they accurately record the time and sequence of events. Donte did not have access to a pen and paper and, after five hours of interrogation, lost track of time.

Around midnight, Detective Needham opened the door, and announced, "Pickett's talking". Kerber smiled at Morrissey, then left in another dramatic exit.

Pickett was alone in his locked room, fuming because he'd been forgotten. He had not seen of spoken to anyone in over an hour.

Riley Drumm found his green van parked at the city jail. He'd been driving the streets and was relieved to find the van. He was also concerned about his son and what kind of trouble he was in. The Slone City Jail is next door, and attached, to the police department. Riley went to the jail first, and, after some confusion, was told that his son was not behind bars. He had not been processed. There were sixty two prisoners back there, none by the name of Donte Drumm. The jailer, a younger white officer, recognized Donte's name, and was as helpful as possible. He suggested that Mr. Drumm check next door with the police department. This he did, and it too proved confusing and frustrating. It was 12:40 am and the front door was locked. Riley called his wife with an update, then he pondered how to get inside the building. After a few minutes, a patrol car parked nearby, and two uniformed officers emerged. They spoke to Riley Drumm, who explained why he was there. He followed them inside and took a seat in the lobby. The two officers left in search of his son. Half an hour passed before they reappeared and said that Donte was being questioned. About what? Why? The officers did not know. Riley began waiting. At least the boy is safe.

The first crack occurred when Kerber produced a color 8x10 photo of Nicole. Weary, alone,frightened, uncertain, and overwhelmed, Donte took one look at her pretty face and began crying. Kerber and Morrissey exchanged confident smiles.

Donte wept for several minutes, then asked to use the restroom. They escorted him down the hall, stopping at the window so he could see Torrey Pickett sitting at a table, hold a pen, writing on a legal pad. Donte stared in disbelief, even shook his head and mumbled something to himself.

Torrey wrote a one-page summary in which he denied knowing anything about Nicole Yarber's disappearance. The summary was somehow misplaced by the Slone police department and has never been seen.

Back in "the choir room", Kerber informed Donte that his pal Torrey had sinned a statement in which he swore, under oath, that Donte was seeing Nicole, that he was crazy about her, but she was worried about the consequences in trying to break up. Donte was desperate and stalking the girl. Torrey was afraid he might hurt her.

As Kerber deslivered his latest series of lies, he read from a sheet of paper, as if it was Torrey's statement. Donte closed his eyes, shook his head, and tried to understand what was happening. But his thoughts are much slower now, his reaction time deadened by fatigue and fear.

He asked if he could leave, and Kerber yelled at him. The detective course him and said no, he could not leave, because he was their prime suspect. He was their man. They had the proof. Donte asked if he needed a lawyer, and Kerber said of course not. A lawyer can't change the facts. A lawyer can't bring back Nicole. A lawyer can't save your life, Donte, but we can.

Morrissey notes made no reference to the discussion about lawyers.

At 2:20 am, Torrey Pickett was allowed to leave. Detective Needham let him through a side door so he would not bump into Mr. Drumm in the lobby. The detectives in teh basement had been warned that the defendant's father was in the building and wanted to see him. This was denied under oath at several hearings.

Morrissey began to fade and was replaced by Needham. For the next 3 hours, while Morrissey napped, Needham took notes. Kerber showed no signs of slowing down. As he hammered away at the suspect, he seemed to energize himself. He was about to break the suspect, solve the case, and become the hero. He offered Donte another crack at the polygraph, this one to be limited solely to the question of his whereabouts on Friday, December 4th, at approximately 10 pm. Donte's first reaction was to say no, to distrust the machine, but such wisdom was overridden by the desire to get out of the room. Just to get away from Kerber. Anything to get the psycho out of his face.

detective Furguson hooked him up to the machine again and asked him a few questions. The polygraph made its noises, its graph paper slowly rolled out. Donte stared at it without a clew, but something told him that the result would not be good.

Again, the results proved he was telling the truth. He was at home that Friday, babysitting, and he never left.

But the truth was not important. While he was away, Kerber moved his chair to a corner, as far from the door as possible. When Donte returned, he took his place and Kerber pulled his chair close so that their knees were practically touching. He began cursing Donte again, telling him he had not only flunked the second polygraph, but "severely flunked it". For the first time, he touched Donte, by jabbing his right index fuinger into his chest. Donte slapped his hand away and was ready to fight, when Needham stepped forward with a TASER. The detective seemed anxious to give ti a try, but did not. Both cops cursed and threatened Donte.

The jabbing continued, along with the nonstop accusations and threats. Donte realized he would not be allowed to leave until he gave the cops what they wanted. And maybe they were right after all. They seemed so certain about what happened. They were convinced beyond any doubt that he was involved. His own friend was saying that he and Nicole were involved in a relationship. And the polygraphs - what would the jury think when they learned that he had lied? Donte was doubting himself and his own memory. What if he had blackout and erased the terrible deed? And he really didn't want to die, not then, not five or ten years down the road.

At 4 am, Riley Drumm left the police station and went home. he tried to sleep but could not. Roberta made coffee and they worried and waited for sunrise, as if things would clear up then.

Kerber and Needham took a break at 4:30 pm. When they were alone in the hallway, Kerber said, "He's ready."

A few minutes later, Needham opened the door quietly and peaked in. Donte was lying on the floor, sobbing.

They took him a doughnut and soft drink and resume the interrogation. A revelation slowly came over Donte. Since he could not leave until he gave them their story, and since he would, at that moment, confess to killing his own mother, why not play along? Nicole would turn up soon enough, dead or alive, and this would solve the mystery. |The police would look like fools for verbally beating a confession out of him. Some farmer or hunter would stumble over her remains, and these clowns would be exposed. Donte would in vindicated, freed, and everyone would feel sorry for him.

Twelve hours after the interrogation began, he looked at Kerber and said, "Give me a few minutes, and I'll tell you everything."

After the break, Kerber helped him fill in the blanks. He had sneaked out of the house after his sister was asleep. He was desperate to see Nicole because she was pushing him away, trying to break off their affair. He knew Nicole was at the movies with friends. He drove there, alone, in the green Ford van. He confronted her in the parking lot near her car. She agreed to get in. They drive around Slone, then into the country side. He wanted sex, she said no. They were finished. He tried to force himself on her and she fought back. he forced her into sex, but it wasn't enjoyable. She scratched him, even drew blood. The attack turned ugly. He flew into a rage, began to choke her, and he couldn't stop. Didn't stop until it was too late. Then he panicked. He had to do something with her. He yelled at her in the rear of the van, but she never responded. He drove north, toward Oklahoma. He lost track of time, then realized that dawn was approaching. He had to get home. He had to get rid of her body. On the Route 244 Bridge over the Red River, at approximately 6, on the morning of December 5th, he stopped the van. It was still dark, she was still very dead. He tossed her over and waited until he heard the sickening splash below. He cried all the way back to Slone.

For three hours, Kerber coached him, prodded him, corrected him, cursed him, reminded him to tell the truth. The details had to be perfect, Kerber kept saying. At 8:21 am, the video camera was finally turned on. A wiped out, stone-faced Donte Drumm sat at the table with a fresh soft drink and doughnut in front of him, visible so that their hospitality could be shown.

The video ran for 17 minutes, and would send him to sdeath row.

Donte was charged with abduction, aggravated rape, and capital murder. he was taken to a cell where he promptly fell asleep.

At 9 am, the chief of police, along with the district attorney, Mr. Paul Koffee, held a press conference to announce the Nicole Yarber case had been solved. Donte Drumm, had confessed to the murder. Other witnesses verified his involvement. Sympathies to her family.

The confession was attacked immediately. Donte recanted and his attorney, Robby Flak, went public with a scathing condemnation of the police and their tactics. Months later, the defense lawyers filed motion to suppress the confession, and the suppression hearing lasted for a week. Kerber, Morrissey, and Needham testified at length, and their testimony was hotly challenged by the defense. They steadfastly denied using threats, promises, or intimidation. They specifically denied using the death penalty as a mean to frighten Donte into cooperating. They denied verbally abusing the suspect or pushing him to the point of exhaustion and collapse. They denied that Donte had ever mentioned a lawyer, or that he wanted to terminate the interrogation and go home. They denied any knowledge of his father's presence at the station and his desire to see to see his son. They denied the fact that their own polygraph test showed clear evidence of truthfulness, but instead testified that the results were "inconclusive", in their opinions. They denied any trickery with the alleged statement of Torrey Pickett. Pickett testified on Donte's behalf and denied telling the police anything about an affair between Donte and Nicole.

The trial judge expressed grave concerned about the confession, but not grave enough to exclude it from the trial. She refused to suppress it, and it was later shown to the jury. Donte watched it as of he were watching a different person. No one has ever seriously questioned the fact that it guaranteed his conviction.

The confession was attacked again on appeal, but the Texas court of criminal appeals anonymously affirmed the conviction and death sentence.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

A magnificent event, but - look at these signs and what DON'T you see? Animal Rights or even Animal Welfare signs. And what does this mean to the AR/AW community? This means that it must join this movement, speak out and be counted! After all, this is about corporate power, and the major animal enterprises - factory farms, vivisection labs, the hunting industry... are corporations.

The AR/AW movement is a natural complement of the Green movement. The Green movement is there. Where the hell are WE?

Good thing the organizers invited me to speak on the Canadian seal hunt, but this is incidental. Structurally, we have little presence or voice in this amazing global phenomenon.

To this end, the CARE-8 tour (Compassion for Animals Road Expedition #8), which will cover 40 states in the 7 months starting April 2012, plans to organize one OCCUPY event in every city that has not done one, or wants to do another one to keep the movement vigorous, en route this "2012 END OF THE WORLD" tour.

Arrived by the Black Panther with Shannon Wright. I parked the bike next to a Harley. A Vancouver motorcycle cop walked by and politely informed me that it was a no-parking zone, then just ambled away. I honored the biker's code and moved my bike under a tree, where a bird did a job on the gas tank.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The
reason for me to write this blog is to challenge and motivate new
activists to outdo me, which should not be all that difficult once
they set their minds to it. Also, it is to detail an operation, to
whatever extent it can be told in the context of its being
undercover, as an example of how to deal with tough situations.
Finally, Shimonoseki is a key city and port in Japanese whaling, and
this piece should give a backgrounder to anyone interested in going
there for any reason.

In
2004, I devised a method of communication with dolphins by which they
could be alerted to danger, thereby avoiding it. To test it, I went
to Taiji, Japan, solo, to perform a series of nocturnal experiments
which required me to bodily enter the cold waters of “The Cove”
where dolphins were seasonally captured and slaughtered by the
thousands every year. The experiment was successful. In the 2-week
period in November during which the experiment was conducted, no
dolphins were captured or killed, and their record would support
this.

In
2005, I returned to Taiji with two activists to seek a more automated
and permanent solution than the labor-intensive and dangerous one
lasting only two weeks. That one was an adventure of another kind,
and another story. The story here is my week-long stint in another
Japanese city, with another activist.

The
name of this activist is Bruce Forester, who also funded this
mission. He is also a good friend of mine, who later rescued me from
a very tight spot when I was stranded in Osaka, and that is yet
another story.

The
objective of this operation was to board one of the ships of the
Japanese Antarctic whaling fleet for a certain purpose which I am not
at liberty to reveal.

We
landed in the Narita international airport in Tokyo on November 1.
The first thing to do was to locate the fleet. Even before we got the
rental car, we had been stumped as to which city to go to. Now with
the steering wheel of the rental car in my grasp, I needed to know
which way to turn it. The fleet could assemble at any major seaport,
or even a minor one - Yokohama, Shizuoka, Osaka, Kobe, Hiroshima,
Shimonoseki, Nagasaki, in increasing distance from Tokyo, and of
course Tokyo itself. The whaling fleet usually left Japan in early
November, so we didn't exactly have all the time in the world to find
it.

Almost
on a hunch, with little intel support, I steered a direct course for
the second farthest one from Tokyo short of Nagasaki - Shimonoseki,
Yamaguchi Prefecture - flying distance to/from Tokyo 510 miles (820
km), driving distance about 600 miles (~1000km).

Throughout
the long drive, I could not shake the doubt that my hunch could be
wrong. What then? Shimonoseki was at the tail end of Japan, even
Taiji was closer to Tokyo. What was Plan B? Nagasaki would be my
guess. Why? It is the southwestern-most port of Japan, and the fleet
would be heading south. But Shimonoseki did have a history of being a
whaling port.

Japanese
highways, and even the international airport which I'm sure see much
tourist traffic, are not exactly foreigner-friendly. The signage is
all in Japanese. Even the in-dash GPS in the rental car was in
Japanese only, with no language option. Good thing that way-back-when
in history, Japan did not have a written language of its own, and
borrowed heavily from the Chinese. So being of Chinese extraction and
upbringing, I could read some of the Japanese characters, just enough
to get by. Were Bruce on his own, he could not have gone too far
before getting utterly lost.

Anyway,
we made it to Shimonoseki in good time, and arrived in the late
evening. We picked a hotel in downtown near the waterfront and bedded
down for the night. The next morning, I looked out the window, and
for a moment almost thought that I was back in Vancouver, what with
an ocean inlet in front, and mountains on the opposite shore.

Bruce
and I went for a walk on the water front and, except for the inner
tension, it was like a walk in the park. But we noticed that
Shimonoseki, even more so than Tokyo, was all Japanese. There was not
another Caucasian person in sight the whole day we walked around.
Bruce of course stuck out like a sore thumb, and received much
unwanted attention, though the Japanese people were more discrete
than some others I've seen. Being Oriental I could dissolve into a
crowd, as long as I bore in mind the advice I've received to not
advertize my birth origin, at pain of some kind of discrimination or
even abuse.

There
was a small dock protruding into the water and we walked out to its
tip to photograph the surroundings. When we were going back to our
rental car, there was a uniformed officer standing there waiting for
us. There was no preamble. Bruce and I were questioned about why we
were taking pictures. I said I was a tourist, smiling inwardly that
taking pictures was what Japanese tourists were notorious for. He did
not seem convinced, and asked what we felt about whaling. We just
looked at each other innocently and shrugged. He seemed more
interested in Bruce. Bruce stayed vague and evasive. After a bit,
unable to pin us down on anything, he let us go.

On
our initial exploration, we just randomly cruising the waterfront by
car, looking for whaling vessels, and, voila, we sighted a harpoon
boat inside a tightly packed moorage. But
I did not shout "Eureka!", since it did not look like one
of the vessels of the Antarctic fleet. Walking around town, we found
whale meat for sale in department stores, and whale dishes on the
menus of restaurants.

At some point we
encountered a skyscraper which was in fact an observation platform
supported by a metal endo-skeleton and cloaked in glass. I suggested
that we go up it and see if we could spot the whaling fleet from a
height. It cost a pretty yen, but up we went. Within seconds of my
initial scan, I had the reason to drop some more yens into a
telescope. What I saw through it made me exclaim, “Hey, Bro! Guess
what!"

"What?"

"Take
a look for yourself."

"OMG!
The Nisshin Maru!!!"

The
Nisshin Maru is, in my opinion, the most evil ship in the world bar
none. It is the factory mother-ship of the Japanese Antarctic
whaling fleet, and the target of our operation. It was tied up at
the farthest booth of what looked like a large high-security dock
within a mile from the tower.

“Little
did the creators of this observation tower know that it would one day
serve the anti-whaling cause,” I said to Bruce.

From
the tower, we also saw the hotel, and the shopping center where the
rental car was parked.

After
a bit, Bruce said, "See that white building on the waterfront?
It must be the aquarium. I hear that there are some Taiji-caught
dolphins in there."

"Well,
well, well," I murmured, while scrutinizing it through the
telescope.

"Well
what?" asked Bruce, who was using just his naked eyes

"Check
this out. An Antarctic fleet catch boat. I bet the rest of the fleet
is there," I said while yielding the telescope to Bruce.

After
exiting the tower, since the Nisshin Maru seemed heavily guarded, we
went towards the aquarium to check out the harpoon ship. It was the
Yushin Maru, of the Antarctic fleet for sure, but she was there all
by herself.

The
next day, still wanting for a solution to access the Nisshin Maru, we
decided to check out the dolphins in the aquarium, and, to our
amazement two other harpoon ships were there, all three in naval
grey, plus a white fleet tender. All were festooned with colorful
manners, giving their ensemble a festive air.

We
wanted to go into the aquarium to visit its Taiji-caught dolphins,
and to check out its whaling connection, if any. But the entrance fee
was exorbitant, so Bruce decided to stay out, saying that it would be
less conspicuous if I went in on my own.

After
visiting the captive dolphins, all Bottlenose of course, I became
heart-sick, and emerged through the aquarium's rear door on to a wide
waterfront walk. Right outside of the door was a monument featuring
a steel sculpture of a Blue whale, with a plaque bearing an engraving
in Japanese and, wonder of wonders, English, which said: "Our
gratitude to whales." I should look up a Japanese dictionary for
the word "gratitude".

Looking
past the monument, I saw the four ships moored right there, two
abreast, with the two pairs in tandem. There were unguarded
gangplanks leading to the two adjacent to land. I could have walked
right aboard either one had I wanted to, but my quarry was the
Nisshin Maru.

On
the third day, we decided to brave the security dock to recon the
Nisshin Maru for the best way to get on board. Because Bruce was too
conspicuous, I decided to do it on my own. When I got there, on foot,
I saw that the gate was open, with people and vehicles going in and
out of it, unchecked. Biting the bullet, I walked right in, as if I
owned it.

The dock, was long
enough for three ships. There was a Chinese ship and a Korean ship
tied in behind the Nisshin Maru, which was the farthest out. I put on
a show of taking pictures of the Chinese freighter, which was the one
directly behind the Nisshin Maru, in case I was questioned. Of
course, when I was standing at the bow of the Chinese ship, I was at
the stern of the factory ship, which had “RESEARCH” painted on
its back side amidships, in huge white block letters. I made a mental
note to myself to look up “research” in the Japanese dictionary
as well.

Of
course, the distinguishing feature of a whaling factory ship is its
tail slipway extending from water level at the large stern opening
forward and upward. The slipway is a ramp by which whale carcasses
are dragged from the sea on to the main deck to be butchered. I
metaphorically slapped myself on my forehead. How better to enter the
ship than through the slipway? The only question was whether we
should access it by raft or by wet suit. One way or the other, it
would be done at night, though the ship would still be lit up like a
Christmas tree.

After
my Chinese ship subterfuge, I turned my camera at the whaling ship.
The dock was crawling with workers in the process of loading the
ship. Unfortunately, at that point, I caught the attention of a
uniformed guard. He walked straight up to me and asked me what I was
doing on the dock. I said that I had a cousin working on the Chinese
vessel, and that I was there to take pictures of his ship. I knew the
story was full of holes. His next question would probably have been
for my cousin's name, and I would have to tell a lie to cover-up a
lie. But fate intervened. His cell phone rang and he moved off to one
side to answer it. I took the opportunity to calmly away.

I
walked as fast as possible without running, and got back on to the
street unintercepted. The hotel was in the direction of the aquarium,
so I proceeded in that direction. At one point, about halfway to the
aquarium, I came across a stretch of waterfront where a dozen small
freighters were tied. I took some random pictures of these ship to
show that I was just a “ship-freak” in case I was question. Sure
enough, lo and behold, my progress was blocked by a white van which
passed me from behind. Two plain clothes men came out and ordered me
to stop.

One
of them, who spoke passable English, asked me straight out why I was
taking photos of the Nisshin Maru. So, they did tail me from the
dock. I said I was more interested in the Chinese freighter, and
freighters in general. He ordered me to hand over my camera, which I
did. Good thing that I had already downloaded the photos I had taken
the previous days into my computer and had deleted them from the
camera. He and his colleague looked through all the pictures I had
taken on that day, and indeed there were more freighter pics than the
ones of the Nisshin Maru. He asked me why I was interested in
freighters. I said that I was considering sailing in one.

"Are
you associated with Sea Shepherd?"

“Sea
who?”

"Sea
Shepherd, the group that harasses our whaling fleet."

“Oh,
that group. I've seen them on TV. But that's about it.”

"What
about Greenpeace?"

“Greenpeace?
It started in my country, but that's about all I know. I'm not a
member of it.”

“Why
are you in Shimonoseki?”

“I'm
a tourist.”

"But
why Shimonoseki?"

“Oh,
I'm just passing through, from Hiroshima to Nagasaki.”

"What
is in Hiroshima and Nagasaki for you?"

“To
pay my respects to the war dead.”

“Please
show me your passport.”

“I
left it in my rental car,” which in fact it wasn't; it was in the
hotel, but Bruce was there and my story of us visiting Hiroshima and
Nagasaki was just conjured on the spot.

"Where
is the car?"

“In
the parking garage of a shopping center.”

“Okay,
let's go."

He
asked his companion to follow us slowly in the white van, and we went
off on foot towards the department store maybe 2 kilometers away and
one block from the hotel which did not have its own parking facility.
While we walked, with the van tailing us, he kept on peppering me
with questions. I stayed as close to the truth as possible, including
where I was born and where I lived, etc. Many of the questions were
repeats, and many were trick questions. I've been called "calm
and cool", "unflappable", "stoic", etc.,
under diverse circumstances, and all these came in play to keep me
afloat. But that was the longest 2 km I had ever walked.

All
the while I was saying to myself, "Uh oh, what am I gonna do
when we get to the car?"

When
we got to the car, I put on a bug pretense of looking for my
passport, ending with, “I'm very sorry, but now I remember. It is
in the hotel.”

I
was banking on that he would not call my bluff, but he did.
Meanwhile, he used his cell phone to photograph the license plate.

"Which
hotel?" he said.

“That
one,” I said, pointing at it.

“Let's
go.”

So
off we walked towards the hotel, with the white van again in tow.

To
be honest, I was at a loss for a solution and pretty much cast my
fate to the wind. My best case scenario was that Bruce had gone out.

When
we arrived at the hotel room, and I entered with my key, Bruce was
there. The two men followed me right in, and I thought that that was
it. But then again, fate intervened, for the second time, in the same
way. The guy's cell phone rang. He went out to the hall way to answer
it. His partner was just coming out from the elevator. Quickly, I
whispered to Bruce, "We are tourists going from Hiroshima to
Nagasaki to pay respect to the war dead." No sooner had Bruce
heard it than the guy came back it. He asked Bruce exactly that
question, and Bruce answered it correctly with no sign of stress.

Strangely,
they seemed more interested in me than in Bruce, and escorted me down
to the coffee shop in the lobby to interrogate me for another half an
hour, leaving Bruce in the room unmolested. At the end, they could
not pin me down and called it quits. Very strangely, my interrogator
made me a farewell gift of a pack of Japanese kleenex.

All
told, from beginning to end, the whole ordeal lasted upwards of two
hours.

As
I mentioned in the beginning, I cannot divulge the nature of the
undercover operation, nor its outcome. Suffice to say that the
whaling fleet departed from Shimonoseki on November 8, and we drove
back to the Tokyo Narita airport for Bruce to fly back to Canada.

There
is a final twist to this story. The GPS took us through a very
convoluted and congested route to the wrong airport - Haneda instead
of Narita. We reset the GPS and floored it, while sweating and
cursing the whole way. When we finally arrived, Bruce was within 5
minutes of the plane's scheduled departure. The ticket agent had to
call the plane for it to wait, and Bruce had to run nearly a mile
with his carry on luggage to make it, but he did.

Meanwhile,
I turned the car around to Taiji, but, as I've said before, it was
another story.

Friday, October 7, 2011

.This is not pornography, nor erotica, but art. It is a contemporary Chinese painting depicting a classical Chinese beauty reclined in front of classical Chinese paintings. It is here to first speak for itself, and for its creator, demonstrating that the Chinese people is as talented as anyone else. I know one such talented Chinese person. His name is Anthony Marr. And this story is about him.

I first met him at the 2011 Animal Rights National Conference in Los Angeles, where he was a speaker, and a prominent one at that. He had spoken at the conference every year since 2004, and in previous years he was given upwards of a dozen different speeches to make, while other speakers get maybe around 3. This year, he asked that the number be reduced, and still made seven different speeches, including a plenary speech titled “The Methane Time-Bomb – Doomsday Machine”, which scared the living daylights out of anyone except those who still believed that global warming is a hoax, who may not exist in that room. He used no notes, and spoke from his heart for his allotted 12 minutes. His talk was well structured, and he delivered it with seriousness, sincerity, dynamism and passion, and even a touch of humor in spite of the grimness of the subject matter.

In the www.ARConference.org website, his mini-bio says:

Anthony Marr has a physics degree, and is the author of "OMNI-SCIENCE and the Human Destiny" (2003), where he advanced a new cosmology described by university scientists as "the philosophical systems of the 21st Century". His second book "Homo Sapiens! SAVE YOUR EARTH!" (2008) answers the call of the time. He is now working on his third book. He is the founder of Heal Our Planet Earth (HOPE) (1999) and the Global Anti-Hunting Coalition (GAHC) (2010). A world-known Canadian wildlife preservationist, he has worked in 3 tiger reserves in India (1997-1999), performed operations in Japan against whaling and the dolphin slaughter (2004, 2005), and led the highest profile anti-hunting campaign in Canadian history (1996), involving 1800 volunteers, where he debated cohorts of hunters up to 120 at a time more than 30 times in a 2-month road tour, and was physically assaulted for his trouble (1998), which of course made him more anti-hunting than ever. Since 2003, he has undertaken 7 Compassion for Animals Road Expeditions (CARE-tours), covering 30-44 states in 4-7 months each. In January, 2010, he was honored as The Best All-Around Activist by Negotiation Is Over. He has been a speaker every year at the Animal Rights National Conference (DC/LA) since 2004 and was honored with the prestigious Henry Spira Activist Award at the AR2010 conference at DC attended by more than 1000 people.

The late Henry Spira is generally recognized as a founding fathers of the Animal Rights movement. The award is not lightly bestowed, nor to be taken lightly. Anthony Marr is the first and only Canadian activist who has ever won the highly prestigious Henry Spira Activist Award.

In January of the same year (2010), Negotiation Is Over ranked him among the top ten contemporary activists, honoring him with the title of the “Best All Around Activist”. The write-up on Anthony Marr says:

Anthony MarrBest All Around Activist

Whether protecting tiger reserves in India, risking his life in undercover investigations of the illegal trade in endangered species parts; challenging any and all forms of hunting; hosting a radio show; writing visionary books on science, philosophy, and cosmology; embarking on marathon coast-to-coast Compassion for Animals Road Expeditions covering dozens of US states (launching his seventh tour in March 2010), or mobilizing scientific research to awaken the complacent to the immanent dangers of irreversible ecological crisis, Anthony Marr is raising awareness, effectively campaigning, and blazing new trails. In 2009, with several other activists, Marr launched the Global Anti-Hunting Coalition, one that 'can bring the weight of the entire world to bear on the local governments bullying the grassroots Activists.'[5] For anyone skeptical of what one person can do alone or in strategic alliance with others, or what can be accomplished without the large bankrolls such as HSUS commands (and squanders), look no further. For Marr shows what great things can blossom from intelligence, independence, courage, and unqualified commitment to the rights of nature, free from the predatory violence of Homo sapiens. The story Marr tells, and the outcome for which he fights, is not a zero-sum tragedy that pits one element of nature against another, however, but achieves a harmonization of life forces. 'If we win,' Marr says, 'we will have elevated the quality of Humanity, and brought about a major quantum leap in human social evolution.'

Since the conference, I've had the pleasure of getting to know Anthony Marr on a personal level. He is truly one of the greatest people, in my opinion, the world will ever know. He is a phenomenal activist, animal rights and environmental. I've had the pleasure of witnessing him writing blogs, attending demos and debating hunters. All while staying calm and cool. In Anthony's world, things are not done by half measures. If it's going to be done, then it's going to be done right. I've also got to witness how incredibly intelligent Anthony is that at times he has to explain in detail what he means, and this is always done with love and patience. His passion and compassion that he feels for animals and the environment carries over into his everyday life. Usually this includes quick wit and a wonderful sense of humor. When a friend or a stranger has a concern or problem, Anthony is always there to lend a loving hand to help solve the problem or to lend reassurance. He is one of the most confident and optimistic person I know or know of. He's honest and lives his life with integrity. I admire and respect Anthony for what he's accomplished and continues to accomplish, and I'm blessed that he's in my life.

Through the course of knowing him, I have experience mostly bright spiritual weather, but there were dark clouds that passed on occasion. These come in the form of “I HATE the Chinese people!” that seems rampant in the AR community. And I would feel him agonize every time he reads it. Being an activist, it is hard for him not to react, and much of the time, he held his peace. But there were time he could not, and he did speak out.

He wrote, "The Chinese people are more numerous than Europeans, and, with 35 provinces, are ethnically more diverse than Europe,. To condemn the entire Chinese people of 1.3 billion for the act of a few million in a few provinces is tantamount to condemning all Europeans – Swedes, Germans, Poles... for the bullfight in Spain."

“In fact, it is because of the fact that the majority of the Chinese people do not eat dogs and cats that there are still dogs and cats left to eat by the few who still do today,” he said.

He feels personally insulted, because “the Chinese people” include his beloved mother, father, siblings, relatives, friends, none of whom has used bear bile or tiger bone, nor eaten a cat. “Where does this person's hatred begin and end?” he asked.

And he was actually furious when he responded to a comment on the Chinese spaceship launch, that China will bring war to the world, that “the concept of peace is not what the Asian people can grasp.”

Anthony wrote back, “This person wrote from a position of bias and ignorance. With the possible exception of Tibet, China has not conquered any neighboring country. Even when she sent a fleet of fifty five-masted ships to Africa, it was to “demonstrate Chinese power”, not to plunder and pillage and conquer as quite a few European powers later did. Compare the linearly successive Chinese dynasties with the Roman and British empires. And kindly compare the 4500-year history of China to the 4500-year history of Europe, and let's add up the number of wars in each, shall we? What this person wrote is baseless and not historically supported. In short, it is just pure bullshit.”

Most of all, he is pained by the undeniable fact that his beloved Animal Rights movement is rife with hatred and racism, something he believes must be cured, or it will destroy the Animal Rights movement from the inside out.

This said, here is the story that happened just yesterday. I was in Reno and Anthony was in Vancouver, but I personally witnessed him tailspinning into despair, which for a perpetually optimistic person like Anthony was unprecedented.

The most high fidelity way to telling this story is to transcribe here the entire instant-messaging conversation verbatim:

Some time of late, the following facebook post appeared all over Facebook:

Posted originally by Delphine Fieberg:

A while back, at the entrance of a gym, there was a picture of a very thin and beautiful woman. The caption was "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"

The story goes, a woman (of clothing size unknown) answered the following way:

"Dear people, whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, seals, curious humans), they are sexually active and raise their children with great tenderness.They entertain like crazy with dolphins and eat lots of prawns. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like Patagonia, the Barents Sea or the coral reefs of Polynesia.They sing incredibly well and sometimes even are on cds. They are impressive and dearly loved animals, which everyone defend and admires.

Mermaids do not exist. But if they existed, they would line up to see a psychologist because of a problem of split personality: woman or fish? They would have no sex life and could not bear children.Yes, they would be lovely, but lonely and sad. And, who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side? Without a doubt, I'd rather be a whale.

At a time when the media tells us that only thin is beautiful, I prefer to eat ice cream with my kids, to have dinner with my husband, to eat and drink and have fun with my friends.

We women, we gain weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there isn't enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies. We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated. Every time I see my curves in the mirror, I tell myself: "How amazing am I ?! "

(The girl on the picture is French model Tara Lynn) Feel free to tag yourselves :)

Another saying: "My body is that of a 55 woman who has carried, born, nursed and raised 5 children. It does not look like I am a professional rock climber. It is plump and dimpled in places. Some places that used to be thin are full. Some places that us...ed to be full and thin, my yoni is open, ample, receptive and alive. My heart has practiced love many times. I have the lines of life experience in introspection upon my face. My hips jiggle and sway. My belly is soft and shows the signs of it's expansion in order to cradle a life. I am beautiful and perfect. I am a goddess....so are you in your own radiant uniqueness." received 719 likes.We were exchanging instant messages when Anthony noticed it in Facebook.

He wrote: 150,000 likes, 110,000 shares, 50,000 comments. I guess my being just supremely intellectual just don't cut it. I'll have to post one of your nude pics.

A: Maybe 5 at most. But if I put your nude pic in there, I'll have to fight off 150,000 guys.

I: LOL you're sweet

A: not meaning to be. I am truly upset about this. The world is going to hell and people reacts only to dribble. Tom Cruise gets a hair cut is front page news. I'm quitting.

I: you're not quitting

A: it is not my decision. the 150,000 likes does it for me. Some body commenting "I LOVE THIS!!!" gets 44 likes. Somebody writing "Absoulrtely gorgeous" get 97 likes. Another talking about her own body gets 719 likes...

I: Anthony, go home and write your blog, it's a stupid fucking pic

A: We're really going down and there is nothing I can do about it.

I: yes there is! why are we here?

A: It is not the pic that is fucking stupid. The 150,000 likers are. that's the point, and I have to fight off racism in the movement on a daily basis... I'm sick of this.

I: ok so the 719 likes is over-kill

A: I'm not gonna be writing anything. I'll just go home and vegetate.

I: but i think that so many women have such low self-esteem that this pic shows them that it's ok

A: This disgusts me more than even fucking hunting. At least hunting is openly evil. This is evil in dusguise. Right, body image is more important than saving the world.

I: unfortunately this is part of what we have to fight against. society tells women that they have to look a certain way

A: Babe, this hit me like a sledge hammer. You have no idea how negatively revealing it is. I don't know what to say. It's game over. and we fucking deserve it.

I: please go home and write your blog. you can't come this far and give up

A: up to now, i thought there was hope. this has changed my mind. we're not gonna make it

I: there is hope, this is part of what the world is. This is why you're here.

A: Good night, babe.

I: hey don't leave yet anthony

A: yeah?

I: don't leave yet. if you leave i'm going to be upset because you're upset.

I: Some years ago a woman Ph.D from Salt Spring Island BC campaigned hard and for a long time for something and nothing happend. She then did a lady Godiva down Granville St., and bingo, she got it in a day. So what if I write about it. No one will pay it the slightest attention. I'll again get 3-30 likes for it, including yours. Look, babe, I'm not gonna improve by sitting here. I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?.

I: i still think you should. this is what our world is like but there was a message behind that pic. unfortunately people are commenting on the pic and not the message

A: waste of time. All I've done does not equal a drop in that bucket of frivolity

I: o yes it does!!

A: even that message is frivolous. Basically, fat is okay. yes, it is okay, and beautiful in its own way, but if the planet roast, it matters not what size or shape you're in

I: yes but it was also talking about how whales are magnificent beings,that's what i got out of it

A: Then you're one in 150,000. "unfortunately, people are commenting on that pic" - that's what I'm talking about.

I: ok i see your point, but there's more work to be done! things aren't going to change overnight. you have done some amazing work and a lot of people stand behind you

A: anyway, I don't want to drag you down any further. maybe tomorrow I'll be better. but tonight is gone. all falling on deaf ears and blind eyes. I'm not gonna spin my wheels any further.

I: you're not dragging me down. tomorrow will be better. you can't give up now. maybe if you write on it people will see and understand. you haven't really written on this subject

A: Babe, you don't see how deflated I am by this. As I said, people will pay no notice even if I write about it. I'm not going to waste my time or talent any more.

I: the 3-30 are the important ones

A: babe, no matter how long I keep sitting here, I'm not going to feel better.

I: I'll see you in the morning, okay? Remember, we love you

A: I love you too, at least this hasn't changed. But I think I have.

I: we'll talk in the morning baby maybe you've come up with a brilliant idea by then

A: okay. good night.

I: nite, you're the best

--------------------------------------------------------------

An hour later, he came back on, meaning that he had gone home, but came back to Starbucks (since he had moved to a new room in the house, but the internet had not yet been installed).

----------------------------------------------------------------

A: Babe, are you there?

I: you're back!

A: Well vegetating is just not my favorite passtime.

I: are you better?

A: I didn't want to leave you in a negative frame just before you go to bed

I: I haven't stopped thinking about you

A: I have done some brain-stroming and have formed a plan that even I think is brilliant :)

I: really?!

A: Really! What i saw that caused my despair is actually a success formula in disguise.

I: explain

A: think about it while I go get a coffee

-------------------------------------------------------------

His rate of recovery is amazing, and, knowing him, I am not surprised. He just bounced right back, with a new weapon in hand, mightier than before.

This should round up my impression of this amazing man. Have I said “amazing” before? Well, it probably won't be the last.And the moral of this story? As the Chinese said, “When you fall, take it as an opportunity to pick up a handful of sand.”And Anthony's next adventurous mission? His 8th Compassion for Animals Road Expedition (CARE-8), which he has named the "2012 End of the World Tour", which will cover some 40 states in 7 months starting next April or May. Stay tuned.

About Anthony Marr

Anthony Marr
* has a degree in physics
* is the author of "OMNI-SCIENCE and the Human Destiny" (2003) and "Homo Sapiens SAVE YOUR EARTH" (2008)
* 1995, he cleaned up N. American Chinatowns of endangered species medicines
* 1996, he led "the highest-profile anti-trophy-hunting campaign in Canada" (Globe and Mail).
* 1997-1999, he worked in 3 tiger reserves in India.
* 1999, he founded Heal Our Planet Earth (HOPE).
* 2004/2005, he conducted operations in Japan against whaling and dolphin slaughter.
* 2003-2011, completed 7 Compassion for Animals Road Expeditions (CARE tours, each covering 30-45 states over 4-7 months), and spoke at the National AR Conference every year
* 2009, he founded the Global Anti-Hunting Coalition (GAHC)
* 2010, he won the Henry Spira Grassroots Activist Award.
www.HOPE-CARE.org
www.facebook.com/AnthonyMarr001
www.HomoSapiensSaveYourEarth.blogspot.com
www.AnthonyMarr13.wordpress.com
www.Dying-for Salvation.blogspot.com